


Kidnapped

by SymphonicRedWolf



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Crimes & Criminals, Deception, Desperation, Drama, Friendship, Lies, M/M, Money, Police, Truth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-03 10:43:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4097995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SymphonicRedWolf/pseuds/SymphonicRedWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred just wanted to do something special to celebrate Matt's big hockey win. He's gone not even twenty minutes, but when he comes back home to their flat, his brother is nowhere to be found. Alfred goes into full panic mode and calls his local precinct, demanding somebody find his older brother. Lead Detective Ivan Braginsky is put on the case and it's up to him to track down the elusive criminal before any harm comes to Mattie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Yo, Mattie, you hungry?" Alfred asked, halfway in the fridge. He had shoved himself into their large fridge as far as he could go, looking around for anything worthy of satisfying the American's hunger. "I was thinking of making you something special today. You know, to celebrate!"

"Celebrate?" Matt asked curiously, tilting his head at his brother.

"Yeah! You and your team just won your last big game! Of course, with you as my brother, that's to be expected, right? That last goal you shot was amazing."

He and his college team had just won their championship game against their long-time rivals, Matt scoring the seemingly impossible winning goal just seconds before the buzzer. The crowd roared, screaming Matt's name, the rest of his teammates tackling him onto the ice in what was supposed to be a hug.

Matt had been the star of his ice hockey team since he joined in middle school. Hockey had always been a big part of his life; he started practicing as soon as he could walk. It was one of his favourite things next to pancakes and maple syrup, of course. When he had spare time, he would often disappear to the nearby ice rink, practicing his shots. Occasionally he would practice with Alfred; the American could hold his own somewhat decently and Matt would usually give him a little time to keep up before completely destroying him, scoring goal after goal despite Alfred's comments that he was "totally letting him win because he didn't want to make him feel bad because of his awesome skill."

Not to say that Alfred couldn't prove to be a decent challenge when he wanted to, but football was more his game. He was a force to be reckoned with on the field.

The older blonde smiled, walking over to Al and casually pushing him further into the fridge until he heard his head hit the back with a light thunk. Alfred whined out his brother's name, but that didn't stop him from continuing to move containers of leftovers around in his seemingly hopeless quest for the perfect dish.

"Damn it, we're all out… I was hoping to make you your favourite chocolate and blueberry pancakes. But we don't have any of the stuff I'd need. And I know they wouldn't be anywhere near as good as when you make 'em, but it's the thought that counts, right?"

Matt peered in the fridge over Al's shoulder. Nothing but leftover pasta, burgers, and cans of soda. They really needed to go food shopping. And Matt would make sure Al didn't just buy what he wanted this time…

"If you want, I can run out and pick some stuff up."

Alfred pulled himself out of the fridge, giving Matt a "no way in hell are you doing that" look. "You stay here; I'll pick it up. Come on, I'm trying to do this for you; what kind of celebration would it be if I made you go out and buy the stuff for your own surprise?"

Matt sighed. "Okay, okay. Just don't go crazy and buy more things for burgers or other crazy stuff we don't need, please?"

Alfred just stared at his brother. Did he really think that was what he did? No way! Everything he bought he did so for a reason. Maybe Matt couldn't always see it right away, but he knew and that was all that mattered. "…Fine. I'll head out and be back in like twenty minutes," he said, grabbing his set of keys off the counter.

"I'll be here," Matt said, plopping down on the couch to begin channel surfing.

The door clicked shut behind Al and Matt focused on the TV, looking for something decent to watch. Click. News. Click. Game show. Click. Click. Matt sighed. There was never anything good on at this time and he refused to stoop to watching children's cartoons.

He heard the doorknob rattle and turned to glance curiously at the door. He hadn't been flipping through channels for that long, had he? No, he could have sworn Alfred had just left like five minutes ago, not even.

More rattling.

Matt laughed. "Did you forget which key it was again, Al? I keep telling you to mark it or something so you don't forget, but there aren't even that many—"

Matt heard a click and the door swung open. He scrambled off the couch as a masked man rushed in, racing for Matt. The blonde didn't waste a second, running around the couch and making a beeline for the bedroom. If he could make it to his hockey stick, he'd be perfectly safe. He kept it just between his bed and the nightstand if ever anyone tried to break in. Despite knowing Al would most likely take care of it before he could, it was comforting to know it was still there.

Matt was a force to be reckoned with when he had his hockey stick in hand. Despite his shy and often timid nature, with it he was even stronger than his younger brother. Matt would occasionally threaten Al with it when the younger blonde started getting on his nerves. There was no real explanation for why that was the case; he just felt stronger and more confident with it. It was as much a part of him as the maple syrup he loved drowning his pancakes in.

Matt looked over his shoulder and frowned. He wasn't expecting his attacker to be so quick and agile. He swiftly leapt over the couch, giving chase towards the bedroom. Matt tried to pick up the pace, but the man responded, speeding up to stay on him. Huffing, he wondered if this man was some kind of athletic star too.

The next thing Matt knew, he was being tackled to the ground just outside the bedroom. The two wrestled for a bit, rolling and tumbling down the hall, each trying to pin the other down. Matt's head slammed against the wall in the scrap, leaving him dazed as spots danced across his vision. He shook it off to find his arms pinned down, his attacker straddling him now. Matt started to panic, thrashing about underneath him. His eyes met with his attacker's piercing red ones and a chill ran down his spine. Those were just contacts to scare him, right...?

_Oh God, oh Maple, what do you want from me…? I don't have anything…_

Matt fought back the tears threatening to well up in his eyes. Why did it have to be him? Was this a robbery gone bad and he wasn't supposed to be there? Was he going to be taken advantage of? Matt panicked even more noticing their position. He was seriously starting to regret not going out for the groceries himself. Alfred would have had this guy down in no time. Or he could have even asked to come along…

_If I live, next time…_ Matt grit his teeth. _No. No, he's not going to get me!_

Fueled by his thoughts, Matt did the first thing he could think of, headbutting the guy. A sickening crack filled the air and with a surprised yelp, he rolled off Matt, hands flying to his face. Blood flowed through his fingers and he chuckled softly, not expecting the kid to put up such a fight.

Matt scrambled to his feet, not daring to waste a second, and ran again for the bedroom, knocking over a few things in his haste. His heart hammered in his chest as a hall lamp fell to the ground and shattered.

_Run, Matt, run, don't look back, you'll be safe soon._

Or at least, that's what he wanted to believe.

Matt had almost made it to them when he felt something hard hit the back of his head. He stumbled forward, hands flying to the back of his head as his thoughts temporarily jumbled from the surprise. He tried summoning the strength he had on the ice, but it didn't seem to want to come unless he was wearing his trusty skates.

Despite the surprise attack, pain in his head, and possible bleeding wound, he fought back, hands gripping for anything he could use as a weapon. Matt may have been invisible at times, the quiet kid in the back, but he could be just as stubborn as his brother. Neither of them backed down from a challenge—not that Matt was noticed often enough to be challenged. People only seemed to remember him during one of his hockey games. Off the ice, he was just that kid nobody paid attention to. And he was okay with that; fame and glory were Alfred's thing, not his.

His attacker felt less up for a fight. While it was awfully exciting to see the blonde giving what one might consider a decent fight, the throbbing in his face was driving him up the wall. He pulled a white cloth out of his pocket and held it up, Matt's eyes widening. Matt knew exactly what that was, kicking and thrashing in a desperate attempt to escape. Tears threatened to spill again as he thought back to all of the movies Al made him watch. People actually did this in real life?

The cloth inched closer to his face until it was pressed against his nose and mouth, the blonde trying desperately not to draw in a breath. There was no noticeable scent, but he could feel the chemicals trying to force their way into his system and take him over. That plan failed miserably, however, as in trying to calm himself down and not think about it, he thought about it more and hyperventilated in his panicked state, breathing in lungfuls of chloroform.

The drugs worked quickly; Matt started to get incredibly dizzy as the unwelcome tiredness flooded his body and forced his eyes closed. "H-He…" Matt tried calling for help, his voice lost.

His glasses fell to the ground as he was thrown over the man's shoulder, hanging limply. It was so much easier without the fighting and running, he thought cheerfully. The last thing Matt saw before the world went black was his front door opening and being locked again, no one to know of the events that had just transpired.

The blonde was blissfully unaware of his hands being bound tightly behind his back, of being thrown into the backseat of an incredibly ordinary looking car. No one on the block saw anything; there were no witnesses. The normally fairly busy street happened to be empty today; it couldn't have been planned any better.

* * *

Alfred returned fifteen minutes later, heavy-looking bags in hand. He fumbled in his pocket for the keys, trying to keep the bags from falling out of his hand. After a few more seconds of trying and failing to fish them out, he figured he had a brother for a reason, right? "Hey Matt, open up!"

Alfred waited. No answer.

"Matt, come on! These are heavy!" Al bounced back and forth on his heels to keep himself occupied while he waited for Matt. He absolutely loathed waiting; sitting still for too long was one of the worst imaginable things. "Mattie!"

Waiting there, Alfred had time to start going over what he'd say to his older brother when he saw the handful of bags. Sure he was only supposed to get the things he needed, but Matt never could truly understand how important it was to always be stocked up on the essentials. After all, what was a house without a surplus of burgers and soda? He was a growing boy; he needed energy!

But Al would handle all that when the door opened. _If_ the door opened.

One last chance because Alfred was getting impatient. "Matt!" Still nothing. Grumbling, Alfred set the bags down to effectively fish the keys out of his pocket. "I'm going to get you back for this, Matt, just you wait."

The lock clicked open and Al stepped in, fully ready to go off on his brother who couldn't even be bothered to get up from the couch and… Al blinked, quickly noticing the lack of his twin. After a few seconds of staring at the empty couch, he figured he was probably just in the bathroom or something. Or maybe he fell asleep waiting for him. The number of possibilities was endless.

That was when Al realized the current state of their apartment. There were things thrown from their usual places, littering the ground. The aura of the house felt incredibly out of whack, sending a chill up his spine.

Al didn't know what he should be feeling. Surprise? Fear? Panic? This was such an out-of-body experience for him. In a daze, he took a step forward, snapping back to reality when he heard a light crunch under his foot. He stopped himself from putting all his weight down, pulling his leg back like he just got burned. With a gasp, he scooped up the now cracked pair of glasses, heart racing a mile a minute.

"Matt, this seriously isn't funny anymore! You're freaking me out!" Alfred tentatively walked towards the bedroom, stepping over the shards of the hall lamp that lay on the floor. Matt couldn't have left the house without his glasses… He was blind as a bat without them. Alfred was the same way, so he knew how bad it could get.

He was about to take another step towards the bedroom when his body froze, unable to move anymore. He saw the droplets of blood on the floor and screamed his brother's name, hyperventilating.

Blood; there was blood. Matt was gone and there was blood.

_This is no time to freak out, Alfred! Your brother needs you. NOW._

Alfred ran for their phone and shakily grabbed it, calling 911.

* * *

Down at the precinct, Ivan was pouring himself a cup of coffee. He had just returned from his previous case, one he worked closely with his younger sister Natalya. Said sister was currently in the office of their older sister…again. She did not approve of Natalya's radical methods for solving cases. But this time they were arguing about the unfortunate "accident" of her partner that involved several broken fingers.

The rest of the precinct had learned to tune out the arguing between the eldest and youngest siblings. Fighting between the two was not an uncommon thing. While Katyusha was the sweetest woman they knew, cross her and she could make even the most hardened officer turn tail and run.

In the corner of the room, four desks were set up together, three out of the four currently in use. There sat the small team of forensics expert Toris Laurinaitis of Lithuania, computer extraordinaire Eduard von Bock of Estonia, and information bank Raivis Galante of Latvia. The fourth desk belonged to Natalya, but she refused to work with Toris any longer, instead wishing to work alongside her older brother.

Raivis was the youngest of the trio, but for somebody who could be so jumpy, he quickly worked his way through the ranks to join the rest of the detectives. The other officers, Ivan especially, had taken to referring to the trio as the Baltics due to their close origins. The three hated the nickname at first, saying that they were nothing alike, but after a few weeks, it grew on them.

Raivis laughed a bit, taking a sip of his coffee—not that he needed it; the kid drank so much of it that he developed a constant jitter. Toris was about to respond when the phone rang, his two deskmates falling silent.

"911, what is your emergency?" Toris asked calmly, keeping the accent out of his voice as best as possible.

"—AT, Army, Navy, _somebody!_ Help!"

Toris pulled the phone away from his ear, grimacing at the volume. Ivan looked over curiously, having been able to hear every word spoken clearly despite being on the opposite side of the room. Taking a sip of his near steaming coffee, he went over to join the Baltics.

"Is this another drunken prank call?" the tall Russian asked, glancing at Toris.

Toris shrugged, trying to get the person on the other line to calm down. "Sir, please, I can't understand a word you're saying. You need to—"

" _My brother's been kidnapped!_ " The caller repeated, still screaming.

Ivan sighed and took the phone from Toris. "Lead Detective Ivan Braginsky at your service. Now you will either calm down or no help will be given to you, do I make myself clear?"

The voice on the other end stuttered at Ivan's matter-of-fact tone, going silent for a moment before squeaking out a shaky "…Okay."

Ivan sighed, setting his coffee down on Toris' desk to switch it for a notepad and paper. "Good. Now that we have that settled, walk me through this slowly, da? What is your emergency?"

A sigh came from the other end. "My name is Alfred Jones and somebody kidnapped my older brother."


	2. Chapter 2

"Toris, you will be with me." Ivan set the phone down, rubbing at his temples. After finally getting all the necessary information out of the overly excited American, he was sure he could see a headache coming in his near future.

The eldest Baltic stood, looking curiously at him. "Me? Are you sure, sir?" Toris had mixed feelings about Ivan. The Russian was undoubtedly exceptionally good at what he did, but the man just didn't sit quite right with Toris. It was a feeling Toris had as soon as he joined the department and met him, but that feeling only grew over the years as they worked cases together.

Ivan nodded, pulling his gun and badge from his desk drawer, tucking them away safely in the pockets of his coat. "You are an expert in forensics. If this is the man I am thinking of, there will probably be no evidence, but it cannot hurt to stay positive, da?"

"I-I suppose…" Toris did the same, fishing out his badge and hanging it around his neck. Toris preferred to keep his in plain sight so everybody knew who he was, unlike Ivan who would rather keep his hidden. In his eyes, it lessened the chances of him getting attacked for no good reason. Ivan was much stronger than him and he knew the Russian had very little to be scared of. He clumsily fastened the holster to his hip when Ivan began to speak again.

"You took down the kid's address I trust, da?"

Toris swallowed and nodded. "O-Of course." Last thing anyone in this department dared to do was screw up around Ivan. That was a one-way ticket to a punishment nobody wanted to be subject to. Whether or not he got away with it because his sister was Captain of their squad or because even she didn't dare cross him was a mystery for the ages. But it was no secret that Ivan could get away with almost anything and he knew that.

"Toris," Ivan said simply, waiting by the door. Ivan could be a very impatient man and repeating himself was something he very rarely did.

"Coming!" The brown-haired man chased after the Russian, the two remaining Baltics not daring to say another word until the door slammed shut behind them.

* * *

Alfred sat curled up on the couch, clinging to Matt's glasses like a lifeline. All the doors were locked, unlocked, and relocked just to be safe. Their home was compromised once; who was to say a second time was impossible? And just for extra protection, he dragged one of the armchairs in front of the door, barricading it to discourage future break-ins.

Holding Matt's glasses to the point of breaking them wouldn't bring his older brother back, but it gave him some odd sense of stability in this crazy, screwed-up situation he found himself in. It almost felt like Matt was there and he could swear he heard his soft-spoken twin telling him all the reasons why maple syrup was the greatest thing in the world. It brought him comfort to think that instead of imagining possible scenarios his brother was being subjected to by this villainous unknown criminal.

There was a harsh knock on the door and Al jumped. "G-Go away! No one's home!" Alfred groaned slightly, hearing how weak and scared his voice sounded, but who could blame him? It was a totally legitimate time for that!

"This is the police," a heavily accented man answered.

Alfred curled up a little more on the couch. "How do I know that? You could be a spy! Or one of them! You think I'm going to fall for that?"

"Alfred, you just spoke to us on the phone not too long ago. Open the door and we can prove it."

"Hell no! Show me your badges!"

"Our badges? Da, if that is what you want. But you will have to open the door so we can show them to you."

Alfred stood, narrowing his eyes at the men behind the door. He was too clever to be outsmarted by a couple of criminals. "No way, man. What, do you think I'm an idiot?" Ivan didn't feel the need to dignify that with a response. "Hold 'em up!" Ivan sighed and glanced at Toris. They hadn't even seen what the kid looked like yet and already he was being such a pain, dancing on Ivan's nerves.

But the Russian complied, reaching into his pocket to pull out the small black wallet that held his shield. He held the badge up to the peephole first, keeping his hand still so the kid on the other side could read the number clearly if he wanted to. Toris watched the senior detective for a second before doing the same.

Alfred ran over to the door, climbing over the armchair barricade to squint through the peephole. He didn't care much to remember the numbers on the shield, instead being fascinated by the fact that he was looking at actual police badges. They were just as cool in real life as they were in the movies.

_Wait, focus! No time to get distracted, even if they are cool… Think they'll let me hold them?_

_Ah! Focus, Al. Right. Okay._

Everything seemed to check out so far, but one could never be too careful… Who was to say the badges they were carrying weren't just incredibly well-made fakes?

"Open them up! I want your names!"

Toris again looked at Ivan for permission. This was all standard procedure according to the book, but it wasn't every day they had to show their credentials to such an extent. Usually a quick flash of the badge was all it took. Either this kid watched too many movies or he was paranoid.

Perhaps that wasn't the nicest conclusion to jump to considering this kid's brother just got kidnapped, but still…

Ivan gave a slight nod, the two flipping their wallets open in one swift motion. Al couldn't help but grin behind the door, feeling like he was watching a scene straight out of a movie. Before he knew it, the tall one would be kicking the door in while the one next to him tossed him his gun.

Alfred reminded himself to focus again, studying the IDs intently. Ivan's was clearly an older picture, showing off a young eighteen year old boy. His features hadn't changed all that much over the past few years, the Russian never seeming to quite grow out of that childish face of his. Those piercing violet orbs were just as unreadable in the picture as they were on the real thing.

Clearly written beside the picture was the name "Ivan Braginsky" in bold lettering, the title "Lead Detective" and his badge number written on the next line in slightly smaller text size. A small holographic golden badge glittered behind the names as it caught the light.

After studying the cards for a few minutes, Alfred having absolutely no idea how to even imagine the pronunciation of the surname "Laurinaitis," he decided these guys checked out and it would be safe enough to open the door. He kicked the armchair to the side and flung the door open to meet the officers.

He was not, however, expecting Ivan to be that _big._ The Russian stood about a head taller than him and looked like a giant compared to the smaller dark-haired man beside him. Alfred caught himself staring and tried to play it off like he was just sizing them up.

"Alright, you guys check out… You're really tall, you know that?"

So much for that plan.

Alfred quickly tried to change the subject as Ivan raised an eyebrow. Toris looked fairly surprised; that wasn't the first thing they were usually greeted with and it threw him for a loop. "So you're Ivan…Braginsky?" The blond asked, fumbling horribly with the pronunciation of the surname as he stepped aside to grant the two officers entry.

"Braginsky, da," Ivan corrected, following the blond inside. "And my partner, Toris." The former gave a polite nod at the mention of his name, stepping inside after Ivan.

Alfred brightened. "Oh, so you're the ones I spoke to on the phone! Thanks for coming so quickly."

"You're welcome," Toris said gently. "But you don't need to thank us. It's our job."

Ivan looked around, making a quick mental note of the crime scene as Toris pulled a small notepad from his pocket and took the pen from behind his ear.

"How long ago did this happen?" Ivan asked, moving about the living room. Best to start the line of questioning now before they were surprised with anything else. He took care not to touch anything as he moved. Disturbing a crime scene was one of the worst things to do; the messy after-state of the scene was the only thing left to tell the story. Disturb it or eliminate it in any way and it may as well have not existed in the first place. The state of the crime scene was especially effective in cases that involved shootings. Those were Eduard's specialty.

Ivan paused just by the window, pulling out a pair of latex gloves and slipping them on. No sign of forced entry here. The windows hadn't been tampered with. Neither had the front door. He was quite a skilled lockpicker. Or did he lure the kid out with false words?

"About an hour ago?" Alfred asked, watching curiously.

"Where were you at the time of the incident?"

"I ran to the store to pick up a few things. I called you as soon as I got back."

Toris was standing by Alfred, studiously taking notes. He wrote down everything the kid said, verbatim, of course, taking care not to miss a single detail.

"Do you and your brother get along?"

Alfred frowned, thinking for a minute before realizing the meaning behind the question and sending a glare Ivan's way. "Hold up, man. Just what exactly are you implying? If you're thinking I had something to do with his, you've got another thing coming." Alfred crossed his arms angrily.

"Relax, Alfred. These are routine questions we ask everyone. I am not trying to accuse you of anything. Unless there is something you are hiding…?"

Alfred huffed. "Why would I even want to hurt Mattie? He's my older brother! I can prove it! I've got the receipt. It's timestamped and everything."

"Alright, alright. I believe you." Ivan made his way to the hallway, stopping beside the broken shards of glass. More signs of a struggle. "Do you know anyone who had something against your brother?"

"Nah. Mattie's the kind of kid who doesn't make waves. He doesn't start anything with anyone. The only fights he's been in are when he's on the ice, but he's practically a different person then. He's really good in school."

"I see… Toris. Come take a look at this." Ivan waved Toris over, the former quickly taking down Alfred's latest statement before hurrying over. The Russian kneeled down, closely examining the droplets of blood.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Da. It looks like he got careless this time. There is never this much to find at once. Unless it belongs to the kid. Either is possible, of course. You know what to do."

Toris nodded, joining his partner on the ground. Toris pulled out a sterile swab, taking a generous sample. He bagged and tagged it all by the book, turning the little tube over in his hands. "I'll tell Eduard to get on it right away, sir."

"Good," Ivan said simply, picking up one of the glass shards. Since it wasn't a murder case, Ivan knew he could get away with touching things if he wanted to, despite the fact that they really shouldn't be. "You think he was struck with this?" He held it up for Toris to see.

Toris squinted, studying it carefully. His eyes moved to the rest of the shards littering the ground, taking in the full sight as scenarios began to play out in his head. He imagined Alfred's brother striking the criminal with the lamp. No, that didn't look right. Turn that around and Matt was the one being struck. No, that looked wrong too.

He studied the base of the lamp, also finding the same amount of nothing that would lead him to the conclusion that it was actually involved. "No, I don't think so," Toris said, beginning his observation. "There isn't enough blood on the floor for that. And if you look at the shards, there's no blood on any of them. It's the same with the base of the lamp. Even if he struck him with that, there would be some indication of it. My guess is that it just got knocked over during whatever struggle occurred here."

Ivan chuckled. "A very valid point, Toris. Then how did this blood get here? If I was him, I would not have given the kid the chance to fight back. I would want to hit him once…" Ivan stood quickly, wearing a grin that more than unnerved the smaller mean as he swiftly moved behind Toris, simulating a blow to the head. "…and make it count."

Toris let out the breath he was holding when Ivan stepped away, extremely afraid the demonstration was going to involve actual pain. He thanked his lucky stars that it didn't and just nodded silently.

Alfred visibly tensed upon hearing the men so casually talk about the fate of his brother. Not a single good or positive thing was said—unless the point Toris made about not getting hit with a lamp could be considered good news—and it didn't faze these men at all.

Not to say he didn't arrive at conclusions like that as well. He did, but it still made him sick to think about Mattie being struck on the back of the head with anything hard enough to draw blood. That was such a cowardly move, too. His attacker didn't even have the decency to face him as they fought. Not to mention he was probably blind, too!

_Oh God, did Mattie even see the attack coming?_

Now Alfred was making himself angry as he imagined different scenarios in his head of his brother begging for his life, of his brother unable to see and being struck on the head, his brother lying unconscious on the floor…

No, that was not the only thing that could have happened! Alfred shook his head, hoping the thoughts would disappear. Matt would have put up the best fight he could. He was _his_ brother, damn it, and wouldn't be brought down so easily.

Alfred watched enough of these detective shows to know that sometimes not everything was what it seemed. There were always multiple sides to every story and this one could not be that different. Instead of watching, this time he had to be the hero and help the police save his brother!

"But there's a chance that's _not_ Matt's blood, right?"

Toris nodded. "There's always a possibility, however unlikely. I'll let you know when we have it analyzed, but I highly doubt it."

"How long is that going to take? The longer we wait, the longer that man gets to have his way with Mattie!"

Ivan looked at Alfred, impatience flickering in those violet orbs of his. "These things take time, Alfred. We have to run the DNA against our database and hope for a match. And it is very unlikely that any harm will come to your brother at this current moment. That is not how he likes to operate."

Alfred was getting fed up with these responses. Each answer just raised more questions in his mind. These two officers obviously knew more than they were saying and he refused to be kept out of the loop in this situation.

"You guys keep saying all these things like you know who he is. Do you know him?"

Ivan and Toris exchanged a glance, the former sighing.

"Da, I know who he is. This is not my first time dealing with him."

Alfred's eyes widened. "You know who he is?! Why didn't you catch him yet?! Who is he?"

"First, you need to calm down. Second, you just asked us to hurry up and now you are asking for a story? Make up your mind and stick with it."

Alfred glared at Ivan. "Listen, dude, if you know something, I want to know what it is. I have just as much of a right to know as you do right now."

"You are starting to get on my nerves, you know that?" Toris tensed, shifting beside him. This couldn't be good…

Alfred huffed and crossed his arms. "You're not exactly the most pleasant guy either, you know that? I'm surprised I can even understand you with how thick your accent is."

Toris could feel the aura in the room growing darker around Ivan as he and Alfred glared at each other and wasn't sure if he should either laugh at how funny this whole situation was playing out to be or turn tail and run for cover.

Ivan rolled his eyes and sighed, not really feeling up to fighting with some stupid little kid. "First off, I said it was just a hunch, da? We will have to wait a little longer to see if it is the man I am thinking of. But the man I am familiar with goes by the name of…"

* * *

Matt groaned, waking up from his less than pleasant slumber. His head still throbbed, serving as a painful reminder that everything that just happened hadn't been just some terrible horror-movie induced nightmare or something. He could already feel the bump forming; he didn't need to touch it to know it was there.

He looked around, panicking when everything was one big fuzzy, blurred image. Colours and shapes blended together until he couldn't discern one thing from another regardless of how much he squinted or shook his head. It was bright, but that offered no help. But it was a little more comforting than sitting in complete darkness, right?

Matt started to shake a little. Had the drugs messed up his vision? Would he be blind for the rest of his life? He tried to pull his arm free to fix his glasses—maybe they were cracked or broken or something—and getting even more scared when he found his hands were still tied behind his back. No amount of pulling was getting his arms free anytime soon and the rope was only biting further into his skin.

Matt pushed himself off whatever he was sitting on and got to his feet. It was soft and not all that uncomfortable; a bed or a couch, maybe? Not having his hands to hold out in front of him was going to make getting around a problem, so Matt would have to settle for keeping his shoulder against the wall and using that as a guide. If he followed it long enough, he would have to reach a door eventually.

Dying in here was the last thing Mattie wanted to do.

He followed the wall for a bit, trying to make out anything that could be at all useful. He passed by a window and was blinded by the sunlight, but had no way of knowing if it was open or closed. And attempting to jump out of it was a stupid move Alfred would probably make, especially when he had no idea how high up they were.

Matt tripped over something and unceremoniously fell to the ground with a shout when the door swung open.

"I'm back!" exclaimed the man, walking over toward the fallen Matthew.

Matt scrambled back as best he could until his back hit the bed and squinted up at the man. He could just make out those piercing red eyes again and it looked like he was wearing dark clothing.

"Here. I went and found these for ya. Not sure how well they'll work, but it was the best I could do."

Matt froze and shut his eyes tightly as the man leaned in closer and slipped something onto his face.

_He's going to blindfold me and take me away now. I probably wasn't supposed to wake up… Is he mad?_

When nothing unspeakably horrible happened after a few seconds, Matt slowly opened his eyes, blinking several times. Shockingly everything had gotten significantly clearer, the blond being able to recognize that he was in a bedroom and staring…right at his attacker…

"Please don't kill me…" was the first thing Matt squeaked out, unable to pull his gaze away from the strange man in front of him.


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing Matt noticed was the ferocity of those piercing ruby eyes. They were staring right at him and Matt shrunk back a little behind the gaze, feeling like everything about him was exposed for this stranger to see. An unruly mop of snow white hair rested atop his head, wild and untamed just like the man probably was. Matt also noticed just how pale the man's skin was, especially compared to the dark colour of his shirt. He figured it was from having to stay hidden for so long; if he was a criminal, the only real source of light must have been that from the moon at night. But even then, he was too pale and Matt found himself staring, eyes flickering over his the rest of his form.

This man was unlike anybody Matt had ever seen before. He was a skinny man, but he could see from his arms that he was fairly toned. Matt assumed that under the loose, casual clothing he was wearing, he could see the soft outlines of his muscles. What surprised him the most was how _young_ he looked. His face was youthful but hardened; he had definitely had some interesting life experiences for somebody who appeared to be only a year or two older than Matt, if that. His face was also surprisingly expressive for somebody who lived a life of crime; his expressions gave nothing away as to what the man could be thinking, but the blond was thankful that he seemed to experience emotions just like him.

The man blinked, taking in the sorry sight that was the kid laying before him. _That_ was the first thing the kid wanted to say? Not "Where am I?" or "Why am I here?" or any of those other stock phrases people generally asked when they were taken? He stayed quiet for another minute, waiting to see if the pleas would continue or he would get to the questions.

When it didn't seem like the kid had any more questions to ask, he threw his head back and laughed, the sound filling the room. Matt tilted his head, throwing a quizzical look at him. He had no idea what was so funny; he didn't say anything weird as far as he was concerned.

_Oh no, he's crazy… He's going to kill me for sure…_

The laughter finally stopped, red orbs focusing on Matt once again. "Oh, that's a good one! You're pretty funny, kid! I kind of like you." If that was supposed to reassure Matt in any way, it did the exact opposite. His words, laced with what he believed to be a German accent, only served to make the sentence that much scarier.

That confirmed it; this man was definitely crazy. Matt tried to back away again, forgetting his back was already up against the wall. This was it for him, he could feel it; he would never see Al or his Papa or Dad ever again, there would be no more hockey or maple syrup with a hint of pancakes…

With the strange man in front of him, there was nowhere to go. Even if he could surprise him with an attack or dash past him, he would have no idea what to do next. With his luck he would run straight into a dead end or into his kidnapper. The man seemed unstable as it was; Matt didn't want to risk potentially angering him by trying to escape. But where would he even go once he got out? He had watched plenty of movies with Al; he was probably in the middle of nowhere, somewhere where nobody would ever find him or hear him scream. Even if he did escape, there would be no hope for him finding his way back.

Matt stared at him, working up the courage to summon his voice again. "W-What?" he squeaked out in the same soft tone as before, wishing that for just five minutes he could have his brother's courage.

He laughed that same strange high-pitched laugh, wiping tears out of his eyes. "O-Oh, you're too much!" He took several deep breaths, trying to get himself to stop laughing and fill his lungs with oxygen. "I haven't laughed that much in a while! I needed that. You're a fun one; I'm glad I took you and not your brother."

Matt's eyes widened. "Al? You wanted Al…?" So he wasn't the real target after all. "What did you want him for?" He didn't even notice how much easier it was to get himself to speak now; the words were flowing out of him.

_So I wasn't the target after all. I guess I should've known…_

The man took a seat on one of the chairs and shrugged, looking incredibly relaxed. "It didn't matter which one of you I took, really. As far as I'm concerned, you're both the same. Either one of you would be able to get me what I wanted. You just happened to be there."

That was a low blow for Matt. As much as he loved his younger brother, he hated it when people compared and confused them. Alfred may have been Matthew's twin, but they were two completely different people. Their personalities were nothing alike and as far as he was concerned, they looked different enough where people could tell them apart without too much trouble. Their eyes weren't even the same colour! He was his own person; why couldn't anybody see that? He lost track of just how many times people mistook him for Alfred if they even noticed him at all.

"We're not the same!" Matt cried, his voice stronger and louder than it had been since he was taken. Indigo eyes met surprised ruby ones and the man leaned forward in his chair, intrigued by the kid's sudden outburst. "We're different!" There wasn't much that could make Matt raise his voice or even get angry, but he was Matthew Williams and he wanted others to know that too. "I'm _Matthew_! Not Alfred!"

The red-eyed man raised his hands in mock surrender, a grin plastered on his face. The blond was getting so worked up! He liked watching him like this, liked seeing the fire in those indigo eyes. So, his name was Matthew? It was cute; fitting, even. "Okay, Matthew, okay. I didn't think you had that in you!"

Matt blinked at hearing the accented voice of his kidnapper speak his name, tensing slightly. "Y-You know my name…?"

Now it was his turn to take on the surprised look. "Yeah, you just said it as you were ranting. Remember?"

Matt looked away nervously. "O-Oh yeah…" He forced a soft laugh, wishing he was anywhere else but here right now. He turned his attention to the door, trying to think of the best possible escape plan. This man was setting him on-edge and all he wanted was for his natural powers of invisibility to kick in and let him disappear from this nightmare. He could be forgotten and walk right out without a hassle. When he got out of this, his first priority would be to work on summoning those powers at will.

He decided to look around the room, trying to get a better feel for the strange man in front of him. The room itself was nothing special; the walls were a plain, ordinary colour one could expect to find in any common house. There was nothing ornate about the furniture; it was the most basic set Matt had seen in a long time.

_If Papa was here he'd have a heart attack about the overall layout of the room…_

His Papa had a love for fashion and had a keen eye for decorating. The home they all shared was decorated by his Papa with suggestions he took here and there from the boys—Alfred wanted nothing more than to have a big picture of the Justice League in the living room so he could see it when they all watched TV and despite the fact it clashed with the rest of the setup, he let it slide because it was for his boy. Everything in the house looked lavish and fancy; he could do a lot with a little.

"I mean, I don't know your brother, but I'm sure you guys are nothing alike."

Matt stared at the man, not even bothering to hide the surprised expression on his face. "You…what?"

He just shrugged. "I have a brother too, so I get it. I'm the older one, but…" He shook his head and Matt could swear he heard a hint of sadness and regret in that normally cheerful voice. It was strange to hear his voice like this after the carefree tone with which he normally spoke and the loud, obnoxious laughing. "So, just…yeah, I get the whole brother thing."

Matt didn't know what to say to that. He understood him…? But nobody did. Nobody really paid him any attention long enough to understand him. This man was supposed to be his captor, but here he was sharing personal information with him. He was more than confused. Conversations with anyone other than Al or his family made Matt incredibly nervous; he decided to just stay quiet and go back to looking for an acceptable means of escape.

"Don't even think about it, kid." Matt looked away from the door again to see him relaxed in his chair, casting a sideways glance at the door. The chair was leaning back on its two legs; he was effortlessly keeping himself balanced. "Where are you gonna go? You can't get past me. Don't make me have to knock you out again. You're fun to talk to and you look a lot nicer when you're awake."

Matt's eyes widened. Was he being that obvious in his plans to escape or was this just something the other was used to? He preferred staying awake, even if this was a terrifying experience that would possibly require several long therapy sessions. Awake, at least, he had the ability to fight back if needed. Whether that would get him anywhere or not was another story. He may have been tall, but the other was definitely stronger.

Defending himself wasn't the only reason he wanted to stay awake. If he knocked him out and then suddenly decided he wanted to move somewhere else, any chance of him getting a lock on his location and reporting back to Al would be lost. If there was only a way to get in contact with him…

Matt thought back to just before he was taken. He was lounging on the couch, checking the time on his mobile as he channel surfed.

…The phone! If his phone was still in his pocket, maybe Al could track him with it. Hopefully Al was busy putting all that movie crime scene knowledge to some use and would think of doing that. Or at least call for help. Hope fluttered in Matt's heart at the thought. He'd be saved soon enough and all would be well. Were there people out there looking for him right now? Was his brother worried sick?

…Did Al even realise he was gone?

Matt would apologise profusely for it when the two were reunited. And if their parents found out… Being the children of both English and French parents meant things could get very colourful at their place. His English father had a short temper and was quick to blow; he could fire off a chain of insults faster than anyone Matt had ever seen before. And his Papa, his French Papa, was _incredibly_ overprotective of them when he wasn't trying to calm the Englishman down. Of Matthew especially.

When he found out that anything happened to his baby, there would be hell to pay and Papa would make sure that they got what was coming.

"Cute plan, kid," he said with a smirk, clearly still amused. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone, the small Canadian maple leaf charm swinging as he waved it around. "But that's not going to work."

Matt was shocked. Was this guy a mind reader as well as a criminal? He must have been; that's the only way he could have known to pull the phone out at the exact time he started thinking about it. Which could explain why he was never caught…

"No, I'm not a mind reader. I'm just awesome, that's all! That and I know a few tricks. I think we're going to have a good time."

Matt forced a laugh. "Y-Yeah… You are going to let me go, right…?"

The phone was stuffed back into his pocket, leaving Matt wondering if he was ever going to see it again. As long as he kept it on, it didn't matter. They would find him. Matt was sure of it. "If you behave and do everything I say, you might just get to live to see your family again."

Matt swallowed hard. What choice did he have? He was running out of ideas. Maybe he could appease him in some way. "W-Well what do you want? Money…? My parents can pay if you're looking for a ransom or something…"

"I just need you to follow my instructions and everything will work out just fine, okay?"

"Okay…" Matt focused his gaze on the floor, struggling against the rope that tied his hand. In situations like this he would twiddle his thumbs or hug his favourite polar bear plushie that had more names over the years than Matt could even remember. How he missed it…

"Look, if you promise not to try to run or do anything stupid, I'll untie your hands, okay? Does that sound good?" Matt's head snapped up. All he could bring himself to do was nod dumbly, surprised by the sudden kindness. It took most of Matt's courage not to inch away from the man as he approached, visibly tensing as he moved behind him and out of sight. "Just for now, though, since we're inside. I'm not going to keep being this nice later."

The ropes slid from his wrists, the blond rubbing gingerly at the chafed skin. It felt nice to have the use of his hands again; hopefully it would stay that way for a while. "T-Thanks, uhm…" He rubbed his wrist a little harder, hoping the pain would distract him long enough to get the one question off his mind. "W-What's your name…?"

With a wide grin, he walked over to the table, picking up the small cordless phone. "Kesesesese! You want to know who I am?"

He pulled out Matt's phone again, glancing from his screen to the phone in his hand and back again, punching in numbers. Finally he brought the phone to his ear, pausing for a few seconds, grin still in place. "The name's Gilbert, kid. Gilbert Beilschmidt."

Indigo eyes widened. _The_ Gilbert Beilschmidt was the carefree looking man before him…?

* * *

Alfred blinked. What was with all these hard to pronounce names lately? First Braginsky, then Laurinaitis, and now Beilschmidt? "So this Gilbert person is the one who has my brother? You're sure of this?"

Ivan sighed, not even bothering to correct the blond on his earlier attempt—if it could be called that—of the pronunciation of the surname. " _Again,_ I have said I am not sure. I just cannot see anybody else it would be."

"Well you're the police! It's your job to know! You have to track down the bad guys and bring them to justice!"

Ivan rubbed his temples and turned to Toris, the smaller man having no difficulty figuring out what was on Ivan's mind. The kid was getting on Ivan's last nerve faster than anyone he had ever seen before. It was practically a new record. Toris occasionally enjoyed watching Ivan getting mad when the cause of it wasn't him or either of his partners. He was still only slightly annoyed, but was quickly making his way towards irritated. Alfred didn't have to try very hard to get under Ivan's skin. If the Russian started getting any angrier, Toris would step in, but for now, he would silently enjoy the scene in front of him.

"Alfred, we are police officers, da? Not superheroes. We only know what we can find out and right now that is not much. We will be going after the criminals when we have enough of a lead to go off of. A hunch is certainly not enough."

"What? But you guys are always on the case! You can track down the bad guys in no time flat in all the movies I've seen! Or are you just trying to keep your justice-bringing powers secret?" Alfred beamed, a wide grin on his face as he looked at the two officers.

Ivan groaned and Toris had to keep himself from laughing. Was this kid serious? He obviously watched _way_ too many movies and had deluded himself into thinking that everything worked the same way in real life as it did on the big screen. "And when a new lead presents itself, we will follow up on it, you can rest assured. But complaining and getting on my nerves is not going to help either of us at all, so I suggest you tone it down."

"Whoa, dude!" Alfred crossed his arms and pouted, getting in Ivan's face. "First off, I don't complain. Second, you'd be pretty fucked up to _not_ be worrying about your brother being whisked away by some crazy international criminal! And now you've told me you _know_ the guy and haven't done a damn thing about it!"

"Alfred, you have our word that we will do everything we can to find Matthew. So just calm down…" Toris tried, desperately hoping he would be able to prevent the storm that was brewing in the room.

Ivan stared at the boy in silence for a moment before throwing his head back and laughing a laugh that caused Toris to flinch and shrink back. "Прости меня! If you think you can do better, then by all means, feel free to take over the investigation! I am sure I will not have to explain protocol to you and I can expect the case to be closed by the start of business tomorrow, da?"

Toris stepped in-between the two, giving Ivan a stern look before turning to Alfred. "Leave it to us, okay? There are just certain rules that have to be followed and we don't always get results right away… But we've got some evidence and that's as good a starting point as ever."

Ivan took a step back, shaking his head. Alfred fixed his ocean eyes on the ground, sighing loudly. "Fine… I guess that's okay with me for now… But I'm going to be there for whatever happens next." Suddenly a wide grin appeared on his face and he stared right into Toris' emerald eyes. "You guys need me! I can help you."

"Absolutely not."

Alfred glared at Ivan. "Why not? I can help, really! Nobody knows Mattie better than I do and I know lots about catching bad guys!"

Ivan moved so he was mere inches away from the blond, narrowing his eyes. "There is no help you can provide us. You are a child who thinks he will be able to be some kind of hero by saving his brother. You will only get in my way."

"You don't know me, dude. Maybe that's how it is where you're from, but there isn't anything Alfred Jones can't do!"

Ivan just smirked. "Where I am from, annoying children such as yourself would not be so daring to speak to their elders like that."

"What did you say?!" Alfred stood on his toes to try and match Ivan's height, staring into those bright violet orbs. Neither one of them looked away, trying to prove their strength to the other. Alfred didn't blink. Neither did Ivan. Toris could feel the air in the room growing thicker, heavier, and thought it would be a great time for the two of them to start heading back to the precinct.

Before he could get a word out, the phone in the living room rang loudly, playing its annoying tune. Alfred and Ivan blinked, turning their attention to the phone. Toris walked over to the table, slowly reaching out to answer it.

"Wait," Ivan said, stepping away from the dumbstruck blond. Toris froze where he was, looking over as Ivan passed him by. "I am going to handle this."

The phone rang again, Toris nodding and stepping back to stand next to Alfred. They exchanged equally confused glances, Alfred's eyes silently asking just what was happening, to which Toris simply shrugged. Asking him was pointless; he was as much in the dark as Alfred was. If his hunch was correct, he had an idea as to just what was about to happen, but until then, he'd keep his mouth shut.

Ivan finally picked up the phone, answering with a simple "Hello?"

There was a laugh from the other end and Ivan raised an eyebrow, smirking. "I'm looking to speak with someone; maybe you know him? He's large, Russian, kind of an asshole…"

"Is there something I can do for you?" he answered, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

"Oh, hey, Ivan. I'm _so_ glad you answered. Actually, I was just hoping you'd be the one to answer. It's been a while since we've talked, hasn't it?"

Ivan chuckled, leaning slightly against the small table. "Da, it has been quite a while, Gilbert. How about we start with where you have taken the kid and we can all go home early today?"

Alfred's eyes widened. "Did you just say 'Gilbert'?! As in the guy who has my brother?!" Alfred saw red. Without thinking, the blond made a beeline toward the phone, desperate to get his hands on it and find out just where his older brother is and what kind of horrible things he did to him.

Toris pulled him back by the collar before he could get any closer to Ivan, shaking his head. "What are you doing?!" he shouted, trying desperately to get away from the brunet who was surprisingly stronger than he looked.

"Alfred, don't! Let him handle it…"

"Now, now, Ivan," came the mocking voice through the receiver, and Ivan could practically see the grin on his face as he spoke. "I'm the one holding the cards here, after all. Shouldn't you be a little nicer to me?"

Ivan sighed. Arguing with the psychopath would get him nowhere at the moment, especially when he was so in the dark. Best to play along and strike when the odds were more in his favour. "What is it you want, Gilbert?"

"Well since you asked…"


	4. Chapter 4

Alfred eagerly sat in the backseat of the squad car for the ride back to the precinct, pressing his face to the glass and watching everyone go by. He asked the two officers if they could turn the sirens on, but Ivan quickly shot that idea down before he could even finish his sentence. Alfred pouted for a bit before forgetting about it completely as he wondered if there was any sign of Mattie around here.

It was suggested that they go back to the precinct to inform the boy's parents of his disappearance. Alfred told the officers that his parents were away on a business trip together, but their cell phones would still be working and they also left the number on the fridge just in case—Alfred made sure to grab it before the officers escorted him out as he didn't remember the name of the hotel they were staying at. That had been Matt's job…

_I hope you're okay, bro…_

Ivan gripped the steering wheel so hard that Toris was afraid it would crumple under the Russian's strength. He hadn't heard just what Gilbert had told him over the phone and Ivan was tight-lipped about saying anything no matter how hard he tried.

It was an unnerving feeling, not knowing what was going through Ivan's head.

Ivan would occasionally mutter something in Russian under his breath, the brunet straining his ears to try and catch a few things. It was difficult trying to listen in when Ivan was speaking so softly and he didn't dare make it obvious that he was trying to translate the words. Clearly, the Russian didn't want anybody in the car to know what he was saying. But he could catch a few words here and there: "thief," "fool," "annoying," "games," but one thing in particular made the hair on Toris' neck stand up.

"Deal." A deal between whom? A deal for what?

Alfred was enjoying this particular car ride more than the others. The last time he had been in a squad car, the cuffs were on him, his face and hands were cut up, and he would have had to spend a full night in lockup if his fathers didn't come to his aid. Suffice to say his dad was beyond angry, lecturing him the entire car ride home as his papa tried and failed to calm his husband down.

He didn't even want to imagine his dad's reaction when he found this out… There would definitely be hell to pay for this. Alfred cringed in his seat just thinking about it; his dad's thick eyebrows could be scary enough as it was, but when furrowed angrily…

The back door swung open, startling the blond enough to snap out of it. Toris held the door open for him, politely telling him to quickly follow after Ivan as the Russian was in a bad enough mood and making him wait would only make it worse.

Alfred slipped through the door just before it could close in his face, pausing to look around. The normally quiet precinct was alive and buzzing. Officers were scattered around the room, holding files and moving around in a chaotic dance. Many of the officers at their seats were taking phone calls and jotting down notes, individual conversations lost to the cacophony of voices that filled the room.

"Big brother!" cried Natalya and Ivan soon found himself tackled in a hug. Alfred blinked, eyes wide as he watched the two. Ivan had a little sister…? He could see the familial resemblance. "Why wouldn't you let me go with you?! Why do you always have to take _him?_ I could've been much more help!" She shot Toris a death glare that went unnoticed by the brunet as he rejoined his Baltic companions at their desk. He called them up as they were leaving and asked them to track down any leads pertaining to Gilbert Beilschmidt.

If anyone could find something, it would be Raivis and Eduard. How, Toris had no idea, but sometimes it was best not to question it.

"He is my partner, Natalya, so we must work together."

"But I'm just as good as he is! I'm _better!_ But you still pick him over me!"

Ivan sighed. "Natalya, please, we cannot discuss this right now. I am working on a case." He glanced at Alfred, Natalya's eyes following to quickly size up the blond. He waved and smiled, stiffening when her gaze grew cold. There was a dangerous gleam in her eye that unsettled Alfred. Ivan took note of this and as much as he would've loved to watch the annoying brat squirm, he had to be a little more professional while in the precinct.

"Can you find an empty room for us? I have to call his parents to inform them of the situation." An empty room was unnecessary for right now, but it would give him a few minutes free of his younger sister. As much as he loved her, she could be much too overbearing for Ivan's liking.

Natalya gave Alfred a warning look before disappearing, not liking the idea of her big brother being alone with the blond. Both men breathed a sigh of relief when she was finally gone, Alfred relaxing considerably. He found himself staring at Ivan, eyes wide. Ivan raised an eyebrow at seeing the look on Alfred's face, but before he could ask, he was surprised with a question he didn't recall ever being asked before. "You're a brother?" Today was just full of firsts.

Ivan sighed. Why was he asking him this? "Is there a problem with that?"

"No, I just didn't think… Oldest?"

"Нет," he said, grabbing something out of his desk drawer. "My eldest sister is captain of our squad."

Alfred's eyes widened even more and Ivan wondered how those blue orbs were staying in their sockets. "What? Your whole family works here?"

"Da. I rose through the ranks at a very young age, but I would rather do field work than manage from the back. When I was offered the position of Lead Detective, I could not say no. I have my own team and I do not sacrifice doing what I enjoy. Natalya joined the Academy just to be closer to me, but that does not mean she has not fully earned her position."

Alfred found himself surprisingly fascinated by the Russian's story, hanging on every word. "How old were you?"

The drawer slammed shut. "You are what, eighteen?"

Alfred huffed, crossing his arms. "I'm nineteen."

Ivan couldn't help but chuckle. "Nineteen. I was sixteen when I graduated, seventeen when I joined, and nineteen when I reached the rank I am at now."

That made Ivan slightly cooler in Alfred's eyes. _Slightly._ "No way! That's so cool! So you've been fighting crime for a while now."

"I suppose you could say that," he said carefully, unsure of why he was even bothering to entertain all these strange questions. He could've easily changed the topic or simply refused to answer, yet so far he responded to every question Alfred asked him. "It helps to know the right people to rise so quickly. My older sister already had her position here and helped me along the way."

"Oh, that makes sense… So I could come to you if I ever wanted to be a cop or a hero or something?"

Ivan raised an eyebrow. "And just what do you expect me to do for you?"

"Well if I wanted to do something like this when I graduated, could you help me?"

"Нет," he said, not hesitating a moment. "You want it, you work for it."

"Come on! You wouldn't help me out?" When he got no answer from the Russian, Alfred sighed and pouted. "Fine. You really are a jerk… But seriously, you are going to help me get my brother back, right? And you're not going to let him get hurt or anything…?"

Alfred's entire demeanour changed as he spoke of his brother. His voice held a seriousness that wasn't present during any other conversation Ivan had with him and for just a moment, he appeared to be much older than his actual age. It was brief, fleeting, but Ivan rather liked this side of Alfred; it was much easier to deal with.

"Da, we are going to do everything we can. Gilbert likes to play games; everything holds some ulterior motive. It is a matter of figuring out what it is and catching him before he disappears on us again. I do not think he will hurt your brother unless he feels absolutely cornered."

Alfred sighed a little. That wasn't exactly the answer he was hoping for—he wanted something more definite and reassuring—but it was better than nothing and it did make him feel better, if only a little bit. "Nobody knows my brother better than me, so I'm going to help too and I won't take no for an answer."

And there it was again. Well, it was nice while it lasted, Ivan thought with a sigh. "I will have you arrested if you attempt to meddle in police affairs. If you even think about going against my orders, you will find yourself behind bars until this investigation is over and no amount of your irritating complaining will get you out of it. You do understand what I am saying, da?"

He pouted. "You'll need me. Just you wait and see."

Before Ivan could open his mouth to argue that point, Natalya came running back into the room, blocking Ivan's view of the blond. Alfred quickly shut his mouth before he made her angry—she was scary enough as it was—and blinked as she grabbed her brother's hand, pulling him up out of his chair with what looked like relative ease. She muttered to Ivan in Russian and he nodded occasionally, glancing past her at Alfred.

 _Note to self, Al: don't get on her bad side. Ever. She looks like she would probably slice my heart out and use it for target practice or something and have her brother watch…_ Alfred shuddered at the thought.

Alfred looked anywhere except at the brother and sister, instead distracting himself with whatever was in the precinct. A few officers walked around with thick files in their hands, talking to each other or to somebody on the phone. He looked over to the Baltics' desk, where the three of them were talking casually, huddled around Eduard's computer. Raivis nodded as Toris spoke of something he couldn't hear with everything going on around him, and Alfred found himself smiling. He really did like the energy in the precinct; it made him feel at ease to see all these people trying to help everyone else…

"Alfred, come this way. There is an interrogation room open; we will continue in there, where there is privacy and quiet." Alfred jumped slightly, not expecting to be called so suddenly. Ivan and Natalya had already crossed to the other side of the room, both wearing an irritated look at having to wait for him. Toris sensed it too, briefly glancing up from his computer to see what was going on. Even in the occasional chaos of the precinct, he had learned to pick up on his boss' mood and expressions even from afar; doing so had saved his hide many a time.

He was led to a small room towards the back of the building. On the way, they had passed the Captain's office, Alfred trying his best to peer through the blinds to see just what the head of the squad looked like. On the glass window, printed in all black read "Captain Yekaterina Braginskaya," and Alfred wondered what kind of woman she was. Scary like Natalya, strong and emotionless like Ivan, or a combination of both? He caught the faint glimpse of a black leather chair and a desk, and if he squinted and tilted his head, he could have sworn he saw a lightly clothed figure move. He was pushed forward somewhat roughly by Ivan who had started trailing behind him at some point, stumbling and nearly losing his balance. Natalya glanced over her shoulder and huffed, muttering a curse or two in Russian to which Ivan chuckled.

"This is where we will stay for a while," Ivan said, ushering the blond in. Natalya was setting up the phone on the table for them, hard at work. Alfred shuffled in, running up to the one-way mirror and staring at his reflection. He grinned, cupping his hands around his eyes and leaning against the glass, trying to see if he could see through to the other room. Ivan raised an eyebrow as he shut the door, not bothering to ask for fear of what he would be answered with.

"I'm finished, brother. You sure you don't need me to help you with anything?"

"Нет, спасибо."

"Fine…" She forced the word out, balling a fist. "I'll go check on what those fools are up to. Call me if you need anything." And just like that, Ivan and Alfred were left alone in the room.

"Sit," Ivan ordered, gesturing to the chair across from him. He had to call Alfred two more times after that before he bothered to listen to him, but he pulled the wrinkled paper out of his pocket before Ivan could even ask for it.

"They're in France right now; Papa had an important meeting and Dad went along as usual. These are the numbers they said they could be reached at in case of emergency. They're going to kill me…" He slid the paper across the table to Ivan and let his head hit the desk hard. "I was supposed to be looking out for Mattie… He's older, but I'm more of the protector, you know? How am I supposed to tell them that I let my brother get stolen away by this Gilbert person?"

Ivan picked up the paper, blinking when he felt the desk vibrate from the hit. "You were out, Alfred. It was not your fault that your brother was targeted and there is no chance that you being there would have made any difference. He very well could have taken you both."

"I could've taken him! It was for Mattie! And he's no weakling either, you know."

"Gilbert finds a way to get what he wants in the end. He could have hurt you if he wanted to, so by being away, you potentially have saved yourself." Ivan started dialing the first number on the page, the one with 'hotel extension' printed next to it.

Alfred looked down as the phone started ringing, fidgeting nervously. What would he tell them and how fast would it be before they went off on him? And with Ivan in the room, no less… The officer, however, looked completely relaxed. Of course, Alfred figured; he must have done this countless times, heard everything in the book by now.

Just before the machine picked up, a light, accented voice answered. "Ello? Monsieur Bonnefoy speaking. Who is this?" Alfred glanced at Ivan who hadn't reacted yet to the voice on the other line. Was he supposed to answer? How to go about it? Make it seem like a normal phone call and ease him into it? He was relieved that it wasn't his Dad who answered the phone; that would have been much more difficult.

As soon as he steeled his nerves and was about to answer, Russian accented words filled the room. Alfred was thankful and also a little angry that he let him wait in suspense for that long, but had expertly decided to keep quiet for right now. "Mr. Bonnefoy? This is the police. My name is Detective Braginsky."

"Ze police? Is something wrong?"

"What did you say, Francis? Did you just say police?" Alfred tensed. That was his Dad's voice in the background. "What's going on?"

"I'm not sure…" Francis was nervous; Alfred could hear it in his voice.

"You are the parents of Matthew Williams and Alfred Jones, da?"

"O-Oui… Are they in trouble, Monsieur Braginsky?"

"Oh hell… I'm sorry, officer. Whatever they broke or stole or whatever trouble Alfred's caused, we'll pay for it, but maybe a few days in lockup will do the boy good."

"Thanks, Dad…" Alfred mumbled to himself, head down.

"Arthur!" Francis hissed. "Do not say that! Alfred is a fine boy, mais he does find himself in trouble sometimes…"

"I didn't mean it! You know I love the lad."

Ivan chuckled at the back-and-forth. It was always interesting listening to parents or couples going at it, especially during interrogations. When one would flip on the other, the interrogation just got that much more exciting. "Нет, нет, that is not the reason I am calling you. It is about your other son, Matthew Williams."

"Mathieu? I was not expecting that… Et what has he done…?"

"I assume you know of Gilbert Beilschmidt, the wanted criminal at large?" Ivan heard Francis' breath catch on the other line. "I am sorry to inform you that your son has been kidnapped by that man."

There was silence on the other line for a moment before Francis exploded into tears and hysterics, sobbing into the phone. "Mon fils! Mon petit Mathieu!" Francis cried into the phone and into the arms of his husband, who was trying desperately to console him. "E-Et Alfred…?"

Alfred figured that was his cue to chime in. "P-Papa…?"

Francis breathed a sigh of relief but the tears didn't stop. "Oh grâce à Dieu! You are alright… I was so worried…"

Arthur promptly took the phone from his lover as he continued crying into his shoulder, losing all English to French. "Alfred, what happened? Are you alright?"

"Dad…Dad, I'm so sorry… Mattie, h-he… It was only a few minutes, I swear…!"

"Later, my boy. I'm just glad you're alright. Where's that Detective?"

"I am still here," Ivan said simply, not bothering to interrupt the family moment. "I advise returning as soon as possible to keep Alfred safe and out of trouble. We are doing everything we can—"

"You bet your ass we're coming back there! Francis and I are on the next flight out and I expect an answer to _every_ one of my questions or you'll be dealing with more than just me."

"We will talk properly when you two arrive and I will answer whatever questions I can. Until then, Alfred will remain in the precinct under police protection."

"Fine. Don't let anything happen to our other son," Arthur said sternly, glaring at the phone despite the fact Ivan couldn't see it. "We'll be there in a few hours." The line clicked dead and Alfred's head hit the desk once more.

"This is just like a scene from a movie and I can't even properly enjoy it because of everything that's going on… I know things are going to go to hell once they show up..."

"Then you have a few hours to start preparing yourself for it. I advise making the most of it." Ivan stood, walking for the door.

"You're just going to leave me here?!"

"Only if you do not come along. That did not take as long as I had anticipated and seeing as we have time and I am in charge of watching over you, I figured we would get something to eat. You must be hungry."

Alfred's head shot up. "I don't need a babysitter, mind you. But yes, I would love some food. I'm starving…"

Ivan let that one go, in no mood to fight him on it; there would be plenty of that once his parents arrived. "Then we will order in. Pick whatever you like; it is on the department."

* * *

Matthew was listening with wide eyes as Gilbert spoke, not sure what he should be feeling, let alone doing. The way he laughed as he jerked that Detective Ivan around! He was used to being polite and respectful to everybody; if he ever spoke to an authority figure like that, his Papa would surely have a heart attack. Speaking of his Papa, Matt really missed him. With any luck, this whole thing would be over before his parents got back from their trip and they'd never have to know. And Alfred… If there was a detective, Al must have called the cops, Matt figured.

Could this Ivan person really get him out of this? And those two… Just how did they know each other? Gilbert asked for him by name and everything… They must have crossed paths a few times over the years…

Matt wanted to ask so many questions, but Gilbert had threatened to tie him up and knock him out again if he dared make a sound while he was on the phone. That terrified the blond enough to keep him silent for the duration of the phone call and he really wished that he could hear what was happening on the other line. Maybe he would have heard his brother's voice…

"Kesesese! This deal better go well or the kid will get it, Ivan. And you know I'm a man of my word." Why didn't he just run while he was on the phone? Gilbert seemed into his conversation with that detective; who was to say he'd even notice? "And do get on my demands; I hate being kept waiting. Until next time, Ivan!" The phone clicked off and Gilbert chucked it on the couch with a grin.

Matt watched the phone bounce on the cushions a few times, working up the courage to summon his voice. "Did…Did you really want all those things?"

"Huh? You're going to have to speak up if you ever want to be heard, kid. Seriously, how does anyone hear a word that comes out of your mouth?"

Matt balled a fist. He really didn't like the way this man was talking to him. Sure, he wasn't wrong, but he didn't want to be reminded of it every time he tried to talk. "Those things you said on the phone! Money, beer, a beautiful woman, a passport, and a ticket to a non-extradition country?"

Gilbert just laughed. "What man doesn't want all those things?" When the blond didn't say anything back, he just went on. "That should keep the Russian bastard busy for a while. I wish I could see the look on his face as he tries to get all those things. He's probably got no idea what to do and is begging that little Toris kid for help."

 _He makes himself laugh really easily,_ Matt thought as he watched him silently, waiting until he was done to speak.

"How do you know this Ivan person? You talk almost like you're old friends or something…"

" _Friends?_ " he snorted. "With _him_? Don't make me laugh. I can't stand him. We're not friends, we're enemies. He's the cop and I'm the bad guy. We just have this mutual understanding when it comes to games; it's so fun seeing which of us will go down first."

"O-Oh…" Matt shrunk back a little.

"But I won't deny that we have known each other for a while."

"How?"

Gilbert gave him a look. "You ask a lot of questions. Some of them you don't want the answer to. I've been at this for a while and he's been the one on my trail since the beginning. That was one of the things that helped him get his recognition as an officer, you know. After that, he was just 'assigned' to me."

"Why do you hate him so much? What's he like?" Matt found himself getting pulled deeper and deeper into this great story. It was scary, but the more Gilbert talked, the less he found himself being able to pull away. He wanted to know about Gilbert, about Ivan, about everything he had done… This was turning out to be exactly the adventure Matt needed.

"He's a ruthless bastard, a condescending prick, he's violent, likes playing games with people, not a fan of giving straight answers… Did I mention he's a dick? Well yeah. Thinks he's on top of the world. And he's _Russian_! They're all emotionless, the lot of 'em." Gilbert huffed and walked to the desk in the corner of the room—which Matt hadn't even noticed—and grabbed the small black laptop off it. The keys clicked furiously, Matt inching closer and closer each time a new one was pressed. "Here." He turned the screen to Matt who froze in place, looking over the article.

"Young detective to take over the Beilschmidt case! Ivan Braginsky, one of the department's youngest, has been handed the reins and will be tasked with tracking down the criminal eluding police for so long. Will he be the one to finally catch him or will crime be free another day?" Ivan was standing next to an older woman with large breasts and short silvery hair, smiling an obviously forced smile for the camera. She donned the captain's uniform and stood next to him with pride. Matt couldn't quite get past how similar their faces were—were they related?

"This is Ivan?" Matt asked incredulously, looking away from the screen and up at Gilbert. "He's so young… And he doesn't look like any of those things at all."

"Trust me, kid. Looks are deceiving. Behind that childish face is pure evil. He's not to be taken lightly. And that picture is a few years old now; he's older than that. Not a kid anymore."

"Oh wow…" Matt was amazed. Everything was so surreal; if it wasn't for the fact he could still feel pain, he would've sworn he was just asleep on the couch, having the craziest dream of his life. Just who was 'Gilbert Beilschmidt' anyway? What makes a person want to do so many illegal things? Was a life in infamy really worth it?

"So…what did you do to end up like this?"

Gilbert just blinked. Did he just? Was he hearing that right? "What did I say about asking too many questions, kid?"

"S-Sorry…" Matt set the laptop down and stared at the ground. "I was just curious…"

"Don't be curious with me. We're not friends; you're just my means to an end." Those words hurt Matt more than they should have. Of course he wouldn't mean anything to some stranger, let alone a criminal, but he was starting to feel like he was actually needed for something. He hated it, this feeling. And he hated himself for feeling this way, but he couldn't do anything about it. Matt didn't know what to say next, curling up into himself and staying quiet. Gilbert looked shocked to see such a reaction for the kid and he really did feel something for him; he was young and that might have been a bit harsh…

Before Gilbert could say anything to console the kid, there were three quick knocks on the door. Both boys' heads shot over and Gilbert jumped out of his chair, racing toward the door. A small envelope slid under the doorframe, the sender leaving no trace of their presence except for that. Gilbert snatched it up, wasting no time ripping the envelope open. Matt watched in shock as those ruby eyes widened, completely awestruck as he saw something he never imagined possible.

Gilbert Beilschmidt had lost his composure.

* * *

Several hours later, Francis and Arthur had found their way to the precinct and were demanding to see Detective Braginsky. Ivan had let him sit at his desk—the boy wouldn't stop asking and he really just wanted him to shut up—and had ordered Toris to find him a game to keep him occupied. Alfred was leaning back in Ivan's chair, holding the handheld game close to him, paying little to no attention to his surroundings. Toris had called Ivan over to share a few ideas with him.

"If he tries to call back, we'll get a trace. The kid's phone also…" Toris trailed off as he heard the unfamiliar shouting, looking over toward the entrance. Ivan's eyes followed the sound.

"That must be them."

Arthur was holding Francis' hand tightly, the Frenchman's eyes red and puffy from crying the entire flight home. "You," Arthur said, pointing a finger at Toris. "Where can I find him?"

"If by him you mean me, then you have found him." Ivan held out a hand out of courtesy. "Detective Ivan Braginsky at your service. A pleasure, Mister…"

Arthur sized up the Russian, thick brows furrowing in thought. "Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland. This is my husband, Francis Bonnefoy, but you two have spoken already." Arthur took Ivan's hand and nodded. "Where is Alfred?"

"The boy is fine," Ivan said, turning and gesturing to his desk. "We made sure he was well taken care of until your arrival."

"Alfred!" Francis cried, pulling away from his husband to run over to his son. More tears were shed as he pulled Alfred into his chest, sobbing into his hair. "I'm so glad to see you! Are you alright? Were you hurt? Were the officers nice to you? Oh, mon fils…" Alfred squeaked as his papa squished him against his chest, trying to pull away. Francis sniffed and rubbed his eyes with his sleeves, smiling.

"Papa, I'm alright. It's pretty cool here! They gave me food and this game to play while I waited for you. Are you okay…?"

"Oui, I'll be okay…"

Arthur sighed, looking away from what was left of his family to give his attention to Ivan. "He's been like that since you called. Now I believe I was promised answers to my questions and to be informed of just what happened to Matthew."

"Da, I have not forgotten. There is a room in the back set up for us. Will your husband be joining us or can he not handle the details?"

"Francis would sooner die before not being there to hear about what happened to his kid."

"Alright. But he does not have to stay if he does not want to. Follow me, then."

Ivan waited until everyone was seated—Arthur and Francis had Alfred sit between them, not feeling safe otherwise—before beginning the story. Alfred fidgeted as he spoke of the technical details and of the policework, what they would do and his own thoughts on the situation. Ivan suggested a phone trace, canvassing the area, and alerting the general public to start; if Gilbert's presence here was more known, he would have less freedom to move. Francis began sobbing almost immediately, Arthur reaching around Alfred to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. Once Ivan had finished his part, mentioning nothing about the game Gilbert proposed on the phone or the deal he had struck with him, Alfred had the floor, and it was with a nervousness unlike him that he told his parents about everything that happened, doing his best to not leave out any detail.

"So _that's_ what you plan to do?" Arthur said, a bite to his words. "You have no idea whether or not that will get our son back? What about us? How long will this take? Months? Years? What if we never see our boy again?"

"I assure you, my team and I are doing everything we can to find him. This case is top priority and we will spare no manpower and follow every credible lead. It will not be resolved by tomorrow, but this case will not span months. I will make sure of that."

"You better make damn sure you do everything in your power, Detective." Arthur's emerald eyes were swirling with a fierce anger. "Or I'll go over your head and while I may be a gentleman, I'm not an enemy you want to have. Do you follow me?"

Ivan resisted the powerful urge to chuckle at the Briton's words, nodding instead. As powerful as Arthur may have been, did he really think he had anything over him? Ivan occasionally hated the way he was expected to conduct himself in situations like this, but he forced himself to act as by the book as possible. But that book was prone to losing a few pages here and there… "Da, you are understood. It will not come to that. You will be kept in the loop, of course, and all major decisions will be discussed with you, however it is at my final discretion whether or not we go ahead with the plan regardless of your wishes. You may be a powerful man, but I am the one in command here. So do not try and do my job and we will not have any problems."

"Fine," Arthur mumbled. Francis could see just how much his lover struggled to say that one word. "We'll help however we can… Call us the moment you get something new." Arthur quickly stood and left the room, not trusting himself to be civil around Ivan for much longer. Something about the Russian rubbed him the wrong way, even if he was trying to help.

Francis watched Arthur go, tutting softly. "Oh Arthur…" He met Ivan's eyes, forcing a small smile. "Désolé… He means well and he gets like this when he is worried. It's part of his nature. His pride won't let him admit it, but he's terrified and thankful that you're helping us. It means a lot. Merci…"

Ivan nodded, leading Francis and Alfred out. Alfred squirmed a little, not liking the fact his Papa wouldn't let go of him the entire time, but he went with it if it made him feel a little more at ease. "We will find him, rest assured. And you are welcome; it is the job of the police, after all, to catch criminals. Gilbert will be no exception."

Toris appeared from behind the one-way mirror once the family was gone, wearing a confused expression. "Why did you keep it a secret?"

Ivan just grinned. "They did not need to know right now. What good is telling them all that when nothing has happened? I cannot reveal my hand at the very beginning, da?"

"Ivan, they have a right to know about this…whatever you're going to do with Gilbert. That's their son they're worried about!"

"And if nothing comes of this, Toris? Would you prefer I got their hopes up for them to all be shattered? Because I can still call them back; they have not yet left the premises."

"N-No! Don't do that!" Toris' eyes widened. Ivan would do it, too. He had no doubt about that.

"Whatever happens with that is between me and Gilbert; I know he is trying to buy himself time. This is all part of his plan. He may seem remiss and indiscriminate, but he is surprisingly methodical. He is going to demand something of me, I know it. Those foolish demands he asked for on the phone are nothing more than a ploy to buy himself time; he does not want handouts. He can get all that for himself if he really wanted it."

"Do you have any idea what yet?"

"Нет. But he wants to meet me soon, that he has made perfectly clear. Unfortunately, it would be unbecoming of me to shoot him on sight; that is not the proper way to go about it, for the kid would be lost forever. But I will keep you updated. Now did you have something for me or did you just want to have a talk about ethics?"

"Eduard had something he wanted to discuss… It could be useful."

"Hm… I have some time; let me see what you have."

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

Gilbert’s hands were shaking and he hadn’t blinked since he opened the envelope. He fired off obscenity after obscenity in German, looking like he desperately wanted to destroy that paper in his hands but couldn’t bring himself to. In-between each curse, he managed a bitter growl, angry enough to probably start foaming at the mouth.

The air was thick and heavy and Matt was afraid to even move for fear of setting Gilbert off. Who knew what he’d do like this; if there was even the chance to still reason with him. There was murder written all over his face and fire coursing through his veins and the blond could only hope he wasn’t going to be the one to die.

“I can’t believe this!” he finally screamed in a language Matt could understand. That was a good sign, right? “How dare they just…think they can…” His words were lost to more growls as he finally tore his eyes away from the envelope, seething. One envelope was powerful enough to turn the image of this great criminal upside-down… Matt really wanted to know what was inside.

Was it a threat? A photo? Blackmail?

“Uhm… Gil…? Are you okay?” Matt asked, voice so soft even a dog wouldn’t be able to hear him.

Ruby eyes swirled with rage and other unidentifiable emotions as Gilbert paced around the living room, hands twitching at the edges of the paper. He was torn between crumpling it up and preserving its original state. What should have been an obvious choice became twenty times harder and if this were any other letter, the albino would have laughed it off and tossed it into the trash, but it was _this_ letter…

“Gil…?” The raise in volume was barely noticeable. Matt sighed. He was trying, he really was, but it didn’t make any difference.

“Shit, what do I do…?” Gilbert muttered to himself, growling out every other word. He had finally decided to crumple up the piece of paper in his hand before he let himself get even angrier at the words printed on the page. “I have to go, but now I’ve got… Shit! Props for having the shittiest fucking timing…”

“Go where…?” Matt asked, following the movement of Gil’s hand as if his life depended on it. He was dying to know; the curiosity was eating away at him. Was this how Al always felt before he went out and did something incredibly stupid? This feeling and longing to know that drove him to do whatever he so desired to get what he wanted? “I can go with you!”

Gil immediately whirled around to face him, sending a glare Matt’s way so icy it could have frozen a lake. “What, so you can run and scream for help the first second we get outside? Not happening, kid. I told you that I wasn’t born yesterday, didn’t I?”

Matt’s face turned red and he balled a fist at that comment. “N-No! I wouldn’t do that! You could probably outrun me anyway… I’m tired of you looking at me like that… I’m not what you think!”

Gil held his glare for a minute, not taking his eyes off the unwavering blond. Matt could be stubborn when he wanted to be, but right now Gil was in no mood for such stubbornness. “Fine. Whatever. Fuck…” An exasperated sigh escaped the albino’s lips as he ran a hand through his hair. “But pull any stunts and I’ll kill you where you stand, ransom or no ransom. You get me?”

Matt swallowed hard, momentarily rethinking his decision to accompany the crazy kidnapper. But even the threat on his life wouldn’t stop him from going along for what could be the most interesting days he’d ever have. “Y-Yes, I understand.” Despite the shakiness of his voice, Matt nodded with resolve and Gil would swear that the kid was even smiling a bit.

“Wear this,” Gil demanded as he walked over to a nearby table, chucking a grey hoodie at Matt which hit him square in the face. The blond fumbled slightly trying to catch it, holding it open in front of him when he was sure he had it. Matt tilted his head slightly. It was just a plain grey hoodie that looked at least two sizes too big for either of them. Come to think of it, Matt was sure this hoodie could fit both of them inside it with room to spare.

_Why does he need a sweatshirt this big…? Does he steal valuable items and hide them under it? Or maybe he hides the kids he kidnaps under this after he knocks them out!_

Matt could feel those ruby eyes boring a hole into him and quickly pulled the hoodie on. He looked down at himself, noticing the hoodie reaching down to his thighs; Matt felt like he was wearing a dress, but he dare not mention that to Gil. Sure, he liked his sweaters loose and comfortable, but this was too big. With his luck, he would catch it on something and end up face-first on the unforgiving pavement as the furious German hovered menacingly over him.

Matt tugged at the sweater to see how far he could pull it from his body, pursing his lips.

_The street I live on isn’t exactly in the middle of nowhere… Did he hide me with this? I just don’t get it…_

If he could learn even one new thing about the man today, Matt would consider the day a great success. With a sigh, he turned his attention back to Gil who was now donned in a black hoodie. That white mop of hair looked even more noticeable in contrast; it was practically a beacon that would lead the cops right to them.

“Keep the hood up at all times. They’re looking for you and will spot you in an instant with that hairstyle of yours.”

“What about you…? Your white hair and distinct eye colour will make you a target…”

Matt voiced his concerns even though he was sure it was a bad idea. He was surprised to even hear himself say such things; he should _want_ Gil to get captured so he could finally go home to his family.

               “Yeah, I know. Thanks,” Gil muttered sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “I’ve been in the business long enough to know that.”

               “R-Right… I wasn’t trying to… You know… I didn’t mean…” Matt fumbled for the words, nervously toying with the hem of the sweater. He knew he shouldn’t have said that; Gil must have had this down to a science by now.

               “Just forget it, alright?” Gil produced a black beanie from his sweater pocket, making sure to hide every last rogue strand of hair underneath it. His hair may have been messy, but he always kept it short; sometimes short hair could be a valuable asset.

               Following the beanie, he slipped on a pair of dark tinted sunglasses and watched Matt tying his hood in place. Gil entertained the thought of the kid starting to look like a real criminal for a moment, even mentally joking about how they could be a duo. Matt could drive the getaway vehicle if nothing else.

               When he realised where his thoughts were headed, he cleared his throat and barked a quick “Let’s go” as the large hood fell into Matt’s face, nearly knocking the glasses to the floor.

               Gil threw the door open with enough force to make the wall and anything hanging from it shake. “And remember that you don’t have a chance in hell of escaping.”

               Matt silently nodded, heading out before Gil so the albino could keep a close eye on him. As much as his mind screamed at him to run, his heart and his body just couldn’t. He gave Gil his word and Matt would keep it, even if it was given to a criminal.

               “One step out of line and you’ll regret it. Drag your feet and I’ll kill you,” Gil constantly reminded him, each heavily accented word sending a shiver down the blond’s spine. The kid wasn’t stupid, Gil was well aware of that, but he was still just a kid and kids needed a constant reminder. A little fear was excellent for keeping them in check.

               “Oh, and if you think I’m bluffing, don’t forget that I know where you live. So if you run off or scream or do anything stupid, I’ll go back to your house and kill Alfred and your fathers. And that bastard Ivan and his police force won’t be able to do a thing to stop me.”

               Matt’s breath caught in his throat and for a brief second, the world went dark. “Y-Yes…” He had to force the words out, but the threat did exactly what it was supposed to do; Matt was too terrified to dare try anything.

               The door was slammed shut behind them, the sound echoing down the previously silent hallway. Matt looked around the hall for anything that could prove useful later; he remembered victims from the cop dramas Al loved to watch doing just that and figured it would be worth a shot. Gil lived in a flat? Wasn’t that dangerous for a criminal of his calibre? One of the neighbours would surely have ratted him out by now had they known, right?

               Matt envisioned Gil being cuffed as he walked out the front door of his flat, marked and undercover police cars surrounding the building while the sirens wailed. People living on the block would be shouting praises as the large officer Mirandized him as he was thrown into the back of a car.

               A nudge to the back brought Matt back to his senses and the blond hadn’t even noticed they had made it outside until he was assaulted by the harsh rays of sunlight. He turned to try and get a look at the building they had just come out of, but Gil was ushering him forward and he barely had the chance to pick up anything unique about the complex. At quick glance, it looked like any other unimpressive city building.

               The city opened up around Matt, the heavy traffic—both vehicular and foot—making him want to shrink back on himself. He had been to large cities plenty of times, but it was always with Alfred or with his Dad or Papa. Being there alone made him feel incredibly small and insignificant and Gil’s presence did not ease that feeling at all.

               Matt’s eyes wandered to any and everything, only to be reminded with a smack to the back of the head that they were on a time limit and Gil was in no mood.

               “Quit staring!” Gil barked as Matt rubbed the spot where he was hit. “You never seen a fucking city before?”

               “I-I have! It’s just…how can you stay here without somebody…”

               Matt didn’t have the chance to finish his sentence before Gil grabbed him by the wrist and started to pull him toward the more heavily populated areas of the city. The foot traffic increased tenfold, leaving the timid blond feeling incredibly closed in and vulnerable. He liked people, but preferred keeping his distance from anybody outside of family and his select few friends from school.

               A nice quiet place to hide sounded perfect to the blond right now, but the constant pull and occasional jerk through the crowd served as a grim reminder that he wasn’t going anywhere.

               “Can’t you go any faster?” Gil huffed as a particularly rough pull nearly knocked Mattie off balance. He stumbled, narrowly avoiding smacking his face clean into Gil’s back and possibly breaking the only pair—albeit subpar pair—of glasses he had left. A voice in the back of his mind told him Gil probably wasn’t in the mood to have to deal with scrounging up a replacement.

               “I-I’m trying…” the boy huffed as he found his balance, picking up the pace. “I don’t do well in crowds…”

               “Well now’s the perfect time to learn!”

               They rounded a few corners, Matt having a significantly easier time keeping up with the albino as they continued on. There was one instance where it felt Gil was going to tear his arm off when he got stuck behind a rather large man and his friend; Gil quite literally pulled Matt forward with all his strength and forced him between the two men. His shoulder screamed in protest for a block or two, but the pain quickly dissipated into a dull ache before disappearing completely.

               Matt took the chance and let his eyes wander again, looking at all the shops they were passing along the way: a few large department stores, a bakery here and there, florist shops, but nothing that screamed ‘this is our destination.’ There were plenty of food joints that made Matt think of Al; if his brother were here, he would be demanding they stop at every place so he could try something.

               _If Al were here, would he have just annoyed Gil to his breaking point…? He never did know when to shut up…_

               Matt didn’t even realise they came to a stop on a street corner until it clicked that he had been staring at the same sale sign for a few minutes now. The corner was unimpressive save for a phone booth and a few newsstands no different from the dozens of others he had seen on the way.

               Gil looked antsy, pacing back and forth as much as he could without letting go of Matt’s arm. His head turned every which way and Matt eventually gave up trying to decipher his unintelligible mumbles.

               What was the purpose of just standing there, Matt found himself wondering when it didn’t look like they were going anywhere anytime soon. Gil was in such a hurry to go ever since he received that strange letter, but now they had come to a complete halt, just waiting at this corner.

               Matt racked his brain trying to figure out the meaning of this, finally reaching a satisfying conclusion: Gil must be meeting somebody here! That was the only explanation for the sudden letter and the reason he wanted to get here so quickly.

               But what was the identity of this mystery person? Was it a man or a woman?

               Matt hummed softly to himself in thought as he watched Gil pace. The albino seemed like a ladies’ man to him; he would bet anything that it would be some pretty woman meeting him here.

               He watched all the women passing by, waiting to see if any of them would do a double-take at them or stop to try and talk; everybody was a potential candidate. If he was meeting a girl here, would she be able to find Gil with his disguise on? Or was this something they had done regularly and she already knew what to look for?

               One woman in particular caught Matt’s eye: a tall brunette whose hair fell in waves to her butt and whose striking green eyes seemed if they could stop time. Matt was about to ask Gil if this was the person he had been waiting for until his train of thought was interrupted by the loud ringing of the nearby phone. The sudden noise caused the blond to jump and the next thing he knew, he was shoved into the cramped space of the phone booth next to Gil as the albino nearly tore the phone from the cord trying to answer it.

               “Hello?” was the quickly muttered question and Matt tried to make himself as quiet as possible; he didn’t dare speak for fear of Gil following through with his earlier promise.

               Matt could hear the sound of the voice on the other end, but it was far too muffled for him to make out any proper words.

               “So when can I…?”

               Matt tried to subtly inch his way closer to Gil in hopes of making out at least one of the words from the voice on the other end, but every time he would start getting close, Gil would shove him away with a huff and a halfhearted glare.

               “You’re fucking kidding me!” Gil roared, slamming his fist against the wall. Matt jumped nearly a foot in the air as the booth shook from the sheer force of the hit.

               “N-No, don’t! I will… I’ll do it...” Matt wasn’t sure if the sudden personality change or the demonstration of the German’s anger scared him more, but the momentary silence that loomed over them made him feel very claustrophobic.

               On top of that, Matt was dying to know just what the two were talking about on that phone call. For Gil’s demeanour to change so drastically, it must have been a very serious conversation. And it just made the albino so much more interesting…

               Matt tried to shake those thoughts from his head, but criminal or not, there was something about Gil that Matt just found himself drawn in to; he wanted to know his story.

               A few angry German curses filled the air before Gil slammed the phone back down on the receiver, the walls of the phone booth quaking in response. Matt instinctively took a step back as Gil sighed heavily.

               “W-Wha—” Before Matt could finish his sentence, Gil had yanked him by the wrist and dragged him out of the phone booth. Matt bit his tongue, holding back all the questions that had surfaced after watching that exchange. With Gil acting like this, there was no way he could get anything out of him; best to wait until he had calmed down and reached wherever it was that they were headed to next.

               In his hurry, Gil had barreled into a young girl who fell with an unceremonious shout. Matt was surprised to see him hesitate ever so slightly, as if he was contemplating going back to help her back up. Instead, he settled for shouting a quick “Sorry!” over his shoulder, surprising the blond. Matt wanted to go back and help her up anyway, but with Gil pulling him along, she was quickly swallowed up by the crowd and forgotten.

               They hadn’t come to a stop until they reached a large park near the centre of the city. The colourful playground was the first thing to catch Matt’s eye; there were dozens of kids shouting and running around, completely oblivious to their presence. The large crowd started to make him nervous; with so many adults so close, it was almost a given that somebody would spot them. Matt didn’t want to be arrested as an accomplice, but he also didn’t want to be pulled away without getting any answers. If he could just find out what was on that paper, he would be the happiest person.

               Matt pulled the hoodie a little closer to him as the conflicting feelings swirled around inside him. What should he want right now? He wanted to be free and see his family again, that was a given. But this adventure… Alfred was always having such great adventures of his own; did this mean it was his turn?

               “Where the hell is it…?” Gil muttered, pulling Matt deeper into the park. Matt watched, dumbfounded as Gil started checking behind trees, under park benches, on water fountains; anything that he could find.

               Gil spotted a mailbox near the edge of the park and pulled Matt over to it. Matt didn’t see what the big deal was—it was just an ordinary mailbox—but Gil’s face brightened as he ran his fingers over a small ‘X’ drawn on the side in chalk.

               “Gil…?”

               Save for the grip on his wrist that kept getting tighter, Matt was completely ignored as the albino shoved his arm elbow-deep into the mailbox. Gil looked focused on pulling something out of it and Matt couldn’t help but questioning the man’s overall sanity.

               Two minutes later the sound of something ripping inside the mailbox could be heard and Gil smirked as he pulled a taped up envelope out. The envelope hadn’t been sealed, so Gil easily pulled the documents out.

               But whatever was on that envelope elicited an angry growl from the German.

               “Son of a bitch…! I’m tired of your shit! I swear, as soon as I get the chance, I’m going to kill you…” Gil shoved the ripped up envelope back in the mailbox with a snarl and practically dragged Matt out of the park.

               “This better be the last fucking…” Gil didn’t care who was in his way; everybody got shoved aside in his quest to get out. Matt followed silently, keeping up to the best of his abilities. He was practically running behind him to match those long strides of his.

               Twenty minutes later, Matt and Gil were staring up at an abandoned warehouse not too far from the docks. Gil was cursing up a storm in German as he pulled the reluctant blond into the warehouse.

               Everything in this building was rusted down and decrepit, from the railings up to the ceilings. The exposed metal pipes hanging from the ceilings looked like they could come down at any moment and easily crush the two of them. Matt was terrified of being crushed under one of them, trying to keep as close to the wall as possible.

               The rusted stairs groaned under the weight of the two men, but their protesting wasn’t enough to deter Gil from dragging Matt up to the second floor. The windows provided more than enough lighting for them to see down the empty hall and if Matt craned his neck, he could just see the water outside.

               “Wait here and shut up,” Gil ordered, stopping in front of a closed door.

               “W-What? What’s in there…?”

               “Don’t worry about it, kid.” Gil reached into his pocket, pulling out a pair of silver handcuffs. “Consider it insurance,” he added as he slapped the metal bracelet around Matt’s wrist. Matt’s arm was forced up so Gil could close the other cuff around the metal bars on the window. “You can pull until you’re bloody, but these things are solid despite the shitty overall appearance of this place.”

               He demonstrated his point by pulling at the bars with all his strength. Matt deflated slightly upon seeing how sturdy they were.

               “Are you going to leave me here to die?”

               Gil snorted. “I have business to attend to. And you still have to be around to get me that money. Or I could leave you here and use that to get your parents to send me the money faster; I’ll be the only one who knows where you are. If they don’t cough it up fast enough, well…”

               Gil disappeared through the door with a wicked grin on his face, leaving Matt staring after him in horror.

               There was nothing but the sound of Matt’s own thoughts and the occasional scrape of metal whenever he moved his arms. The agonising silence refused to leave Matt alone and it was anybody’s guess now whether Gil would actually come back for him. He didn’t want to go out this way. But if he bothered to scream now that he was all alone, would it make any difference?

               “Hey. Kid.” Never would he have imagined that he would be so happy to see Gil, but him being here meant that he wasn’t being abandoned after all.

               “What happened in there…?”

               “Nothing,” Gil snapped. The cuff around the bar was promptly undone, but instead of undoing the one on his wrist, he used it like a lead to pull the boy down the hall. “None of your business.”

               “But you were in there for a while…”

               “A while? It was barely over an hour.”

“That’s a long time for nothing to have happened…”

Gil groaned and slammed the warehouse door shut behind them. “God, you and your fucking questions… You want to know that badly? Fine. Shut up until we get back to the flat and I’ll tell you. Can you do that?”

Matt quickly nodded his agreement and the trip back, to Gil’s pleasure, was a quick and silent one.

Inside, the cuffs came off and Gil tossed them across the table. Matt was more than thankful as he rubbed his chafed wrist. The baggy clothes and hat Gil was wearing were discarded and left in a pile on the floor by the couch; the German looked so much smaller and in shape without them. Matt followed his example and hung the hoodie neatly over the arm of the couch.

“Sit.” Matt blinked and looked over at Gil. “You wanted a story, didn’t you? So take a seat.” He quickly did as told before he could irritate the man and lose his chance.

“Yes!”

“Great.” Gil ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I’m thirsty. You want a drink?”

“Huh?” Gil walked to the fridge and pulled out a beer, setting it aside on the counter. “Uhm, yeah, sure.”

“You want soda? That’s all I got.” He didn’t even wait for Matt’s response; he was already pouring a glass for him.

“Here.”

Matt accepted the soda gratefully. Being like Alfred was never one of his strong suits, but he downed the glass in record time. Gil watched and chuckled, equal parts surprised and impressed. “Damn, kid.”

He took a swig from the bottle and hummed. “So, I said something about a story, right?” Matt nodded eagerly. “Alright, so where do I begin? You know I already took you out for an exciting day, but you don’t know why. You remember that letter I got earlier?”

“Yeah; I couldn’t forget it. You were so angry… What was in that letter that made you react like that?”

“I’ll tell you what, kid; it’s one hell of a story. Think you can handle it?” Another swig.

“I’ll be fine! I just want to know.”

Another swig. Then one more. “Alright, alright. Let me drink half my beer first; two seconds. It’s been one hell of a long day.”

The room started spinning while Matt waited for Gil to finally finish his drink. Keeping his balance was proving a challenge; he swayed lightly in his seat, trying to focus on Gil who just wouldn’t sit still.

“…Gil…” The word was a slurred and mumbled mess. It was getting harder just to focus on the albino. Everything felt like it was moving further and further away; like he was going through a tunnel and leaving everything else behind.

“Whoa, kid, you feeling alright? Too much soda?”

Matt slumped forward and Gil grabbed him before he could hit the ground, propping him up against him.

“Hey dude, get out here!”

Gil’s eyes sparkled. A green-eyed man stepped out of the adjoining room, arms crossed over his chest. “Like we planned?”

“Exactly like we planned. You know what to do.”

* * *

**_Word is a pain in the ass with this site; just try and ignore it... But yay, a new chapter after how bloody long? Ugh. Finished undergrad, moved to a new country, started my postgrad Masters Degree in law... Fun stuff.  
_ **

**_Gil is letting things slip! And he's got friends! Who? And poor Mattie~_ **

 


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